


Sorry

by lolcat202



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-06
Updated: 2016-05-06
Packaged: 2018-06-06 19:24:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6766741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lolcat202/pseuds/lolcat202
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spoilers for 5x21.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sorry

**Author's Note:**

> Just an OQ fan trying to come to grips.

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m so sorry for your loss.”

“He was a good man. We’re sorry to see him gone.”

“I’m so sorry for poor Roland and the baby. We’ll be thinking of them.”

“I’m sorry for your pain. We’re all here for you.”

“I’m sorry.”

Over and over, until the entire town of Storybrooke had dispersed, off to their homes, and their families, and their worlds that hadn’t shattered into pieces. Sorry for her loss, but not sorry that it was hers and not theirs. Sorry that Robin was gone, but relieved that their families were home. Sorry for Regina’s loss, but not sorry that the woman who had been the Evil Queen had one more black mark on her soul. She could stand it, couldn’t she?

After all, she was resilient. Isn’t that what Snow said before the service? “You have the most resilient heart, Regina, and I know you’ll survive this.” Then she took Charming’s hand and led him to the front of the crowd gathered at the grave. Chief mourners, shedding tears for a loss that never went beyond skin deep. Snow’s heart, unable to bear the loss of her soulmate, split in two and forever divided, yet forever beating as one. Regina’s gift to them, and they were so very sorry that she wouldn’t ever share in that kind of happiness.

They don’t know sorry, she thought. Their actions were pure and justified. Their mistakes made whole in the end, and they would continue to play hero and know that what they’ve done wouldn’t rip someone apart to the point where the pieces no longer fit. Jagged edges forced together, sawing at soft tissue until it breaks, and bleeds and bleeds until there’s nothing left but the gasping for breath and the wish for death to stop the pain.

“I’m sorry.”

It’s the last one that nearly broke her. Emma, holding that stupid pirate’s hand, telling her how so very sorry she was about Robin. Sorry for her loss, sorry for her pain, but not even a bit sorry that she was the cause of it. Not sorry that Killian lived and Robin died. Not sorry that two children would grow up without a father. Not sorry that Regina and Robin had followed them into the depths of hell (against Regina’s judgment; it had been Robin that insisted that friends and family stick together), not sorry that Robin was alone in the cold, wet earth. So sorry for your loss, Regina, but so very glad that it’s yours and not mine.

Nobody would see if she just wiped them out. The cemetery was deserted, save for them and the coffin covered in arrows being slowly lowered to the ground. A flash of purple and they’d be gone, and nobody would know.

Regina would know, and that’s what uncurled her fist. She knew what it meant to be sorry, to apologize not for a loss, but for causing it. She’d said it sparingly, because in her years in the Enchanted Forest, sorry was a word that meant nothing. I’m sorry for what your mother did, Regina. I’m sorry that you don’t understand that I only want what’s best for you. I’m sorry my medicine couldn’t bring him back. I’m sorry that you’re not the wife I want you to be.

I’m sorry. I’m sorry that you couldn’t accept my apology, that you couldn’t resign yourself to the fate I gave you. I’m sorry that nobody will ever make it up to you.

At least Rumple never bothered to apologize.

***

The restaurant was empty, save for Regina, a bottle of scotch, and Granny. Well, half a bottle of scotch.

I’m sorry, Regina thought as she lifted the shot glass to her lips. I’m sorry I didn’t ask Granny to leave another bottle once this one is gone.

“Are you going to stay here all night?” Granny asked. Blunt, as usual. Blunt, Regina could handle.

“Are you going to stop me?”

“No,” Granny replied, “but you’re in Leroy’s seat, and if there’s bloodshed in the morning because of it, you’re cleaning it up.”

She could make him disappear just as easily as she’d freed his brother. Turn him into a statue, or a toad, or a bug to be crushed. Either way, she was going to sit here until the scotch erased her mind.

Probably not the best choice then, since every sip tasted like his kiss. Can’t think about that.

Think about tomorrow, when she’d have to walk into the mayor’s office and see what’s been left undone in their absence. Think about budgets, and city planning, and another winter that promises to be as bleak and cold as the last. Think about upgrading power grids, and salt trucks, and money diverted to an elementary school that Roland wouldn’t attend.

Don’t think about Roland. Roland was gone, off to the Enchanted Forest with the Merry Men, because he belonged at home, and Regina wasn’t home for him. No matter how much she argued, no matter how much he cried. No matter that John said sorry for taking him away, that it was the right thing to do. I’m sorry, Regina, but you’ll understand in time. 

Think about the water-stained tiles, or the peeling formica on the tabletops. Think about anything but why she was there, drinking scotch.

A glass landed on the counter in front of her with a sharp thunk, startling her and jerking her gaze up from the depths of amber liquid and into Granny’s cold blue eyes. Another glass followed, and another, and another until there were twelve lined up in front of her.

“I’m not washing your damned dishes, so save your breath,” she muttered.

Granny didn’t answer right away. She pushed the glasses closer together, twisting them until each facet stared straight at Regina.

“This one,” she said, tapping the first glass, “this one is so very sorry for your loss.” She moved on down the line. “This one wishes it could take the pain from you. This one wants you to find comfort in your memories. This one knows you’ll come through this stronger in the end. And this one,” she paused for a second, “this little shit wants you to know that it knows how you feel.” Again and again she tapped a glass, muttering a platitude or two, until she reached the end of the line. “This one,” she said as she pushed it along the countertop, coming to rest a good two feet from the others, “this one thinks you got screwed. And if nobody else is going to say it, this one will.” She picked up the glass and, without warning, slammed it into the fourth in line, bashing it against glass and wood until all that was left was dust and blood. “This one wants you to get it out. So do it.”

She did. Fireball after fireball, she shattered the glasses in a line. She shattered the menu board. She blew apart the booth where Robin had asked her to join him in a midnight stroll. She incinerated the jukebox. Beyond that, she set fire to the hallway to where he’d pulled her in for kiss after kiss, then told her that she was his second chance. She screamed over and over until all that was left were the four walls holding up the building, and then she collapsed among the rubble and did the one thing that nobody believed the resilient Regina Mills could do – she cried. She cried until the fires wore themselves out, until the rubble inside was nothing but smoke and melted plastic. She cried until she could barely breathe, until her hiccupping sobs were nothing more than her body’s last effort to keep her going.

When the tears ran out, and she lay curled up into a little ball on the tiled floor, she felt a hand at her shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” Granny said. Granny settled herself next to the woman that was once her enemy and pulled her head into her ample lap. Granny stroked her hair softly. “Regina, I’m so sorry this isn’t fair. I’m so sorry that you and Robin are paying the price for someone else’s mistakes. I’m so very sorry that nobody will ever make this right for you.”

She stayed like that for a few hours, curled up among the wreckage. And then she went home.


End file.
